


Golden Sun, Lake-Lighting Moon

by princeymarmar



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Seisen no Keifu | Fire Emblem: Genealogy of the Holy War
Genre: Feelings of Inadequacy, Largely Brought On By Just How Gay You Are, Lester's paragraph long poetic descriptions of the man he's gay for, Love Confessions, M/M, Post-Canon, Tenderness, like you know just bros being dudes!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-25
Updated: 2019-11-25
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:21:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21562912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/princeymarmar/pseuds/princeymarmar
Summary: Delmud shines like a bright sun in the Tirnanog group. It is at once all Lester's ever wanted, yet far too much for him - but when the war is won, seeking his best friend out for advice might turn to something more.
Relationships: Delmud | Diarmuid/Lester (Fire Emblem)
Kudos: 8





	Golden Sun, Lake-Lighting Moon

**Author's Note:**

> This started out because of a comment someone made while reading the mostly-Lester-centric semi-canon(?) story, [The Forested Land of the Lake](https://garms-translations.tumblr.com/post/168177218063/the-forested-land-of-the-lake); it's been a long while now, but it was something about "Lester taking diplomacy lessons from Delmud"
> 
> And so I took that and ran with it !
> 
> Originally, there were also plans to slot this into the 200 Years of (Holy) War timeline, but its ending is far closer to canon's, so, now you just have Postcanon Delmud/Lesters.
> 
> My final notes are that my Ayra/Brigid and nb Seliph agendas continue to be real and I only say this now so you are not surprised when Skasaher refers to Faval as his bro, and Seliph uses they/them. ...My _final_ final note is that I'm sorry for continued use of so many fan translated names.

Delmud shines like a bright sun in the Tirnanog group; his smile sparkles brightly, his clear blue eyes twinkle like some friendly stars, his perfectly arranged hair is always glistening like gold. He’s everyone’s friend, and a peacekeeper at heart; the sword he carries by his side is out of necessity, rather than choice.

And when he speaks, oh, it’s as calming and soothing and sweet as honey. There is not a single person alive who could listen to him, and not immediately want to give him whatever he asks. By his side, they will fight harder, longer, just to see him smile at them, so radiant; to make him happy, even for but a moment, is life’s greatest pleasure.

At least, to Lester’s mind it is; but then, Lester has been head over heels in love with the boy for as long as he can remember. He can remember watching Delmud, long before he knew what love was, long before his mother taught them that any two people could fall in love, not just a man and a woman. He remembers the laughter, the late nights spent up together, long after everyone else was fast asleep; he remembers volunteering to scout with Oifey the moment he heard Delmud was going as well, and the teasing of everyone else at Tirnanog.

Delmud himself, on the other hand, does not know.

It's just as well, Lester thinks to himself, privately.

Delmud was far too bright and shining a man for him to deserve.

* * *

The war in Grannvale is over, the celebration parties have finally ended, and slowly, the members of Seliph’s army are trickling back to their home countries and newly-won duchies. For most, their own wars are over, too: the duchies had been restored with the freeing of Grannvale; Silesia and Isaach had both long since won their countries back from the Empire, and uniting the Manster District with Thracia fell less to fighting and more to politics.

Of course, not everything could be settled so quickly. Agustria was still embroiled in civil war, lacking a unified leader; Ares was set to march soon, and every day wasted until then, the man paced Belhalla, scowling deeply. Only Seliph’s gentle diplomacy and the dual effort of Delmud and Nanna kept him from storming out early to take the throne back himself.

And then there was Verdane.

Lester had always known it would come back to Verdane. The land of his father, the land where Sigurd had met Deirdre, the land his mother always spoke of so wistfully - the land he’d never seen.

When he first announces his plans to reclaim the country, Faval gently pats him on the back. “Good luck, cousin,” he says, voice gravely serious. “I’ll be returning to Jungby, myself - so, if you ever have need of my bow…”

Lester doesn't even have time to thank him before Skasaher pipes up, clapping him on the back with far more force than Faval had used. “That’s right! And I’ll be going with you, cus’, even if my baby bro here won’t!” he exclaims, wrapping his arms around the both of them - Faval grumbles at his enthusiasm, but Lester laughs, joyfully.

It felt good to be with family.

* * *

Seliph, too, springs right to the occasion. “You’re going to reclaim Verdane? Well, Grannvale is still healing, and I can’t come myself, but if you need, I’m sure I can spare a few sol-”

Lester smiles, and waves a hand. “I appreciate it, really - but I want to rebuild Verdane peacefully, not with violence. And certainly not with the strength or military might of Grannvale. My father’s country has seen enough fighting, and more than enough meddling from Grannvale. I understand your intentions, but… I think the people deserve some peace - whether or not I’m the one to hold the throne, in the end.”

Seliph blinks, before they, too, smile back at Lester. “You… You’re absolutely right, you know. Oh, Lester… my dear old friend…”

The hug is unexpected - Seliph was never the touchy-feely sort, though they had been opening up more and more since they’d found that Julia was their half-sibling - but Lester welcomes it nevertheless, relishing in the feeling of warmth and tenderness. For a moment, they’re both children again, back in Tirnanog… and then Seliph pulls back, still smiling oh so fondly, resting their hands on his shoulders instead.

“That really is a noble goal, and I wish you all the luck in achieving it! But, even if you don’t want any military aid, should you ever need - just ask, and I’ll send whatever else you may need.”

“Thanks,” says Lester, and even though he’s still smiling, his stomach starts to churn unpleasantly. “I think I’ve got it, though.”

And, just in case he doesn’t, there’s one more person he needs to tell, anyways. His footsteps feel very heavy as he walks through the halls, away from Seliph.

* * *

“What? Going to reclaim Verdane? Why, of course I’ll go with you!” Delmud exclaims, flashing Lester his signature, sparkling smile. It makes butterflies flutter deep in the pit of Lester's stomach, and he can't help but smile back at his dear old friend, barely restraining the adoration from his gaze.

“Thank you,” he says, emphatically. “I don't know what I'd do without you by my side.”

Delmud laughs at that, high and airy, and he slings an arm around Lester's shoulders. “Well, I'd say you'd do just fine without me,” he says, strangely confident. “You're a Crusader, and one of the children of Tirnanog! Son of Edain and Prince Jamke; there's nothing you can't do if you put your mind to it!”

Lester isn't sure he fully believes this - or, at least, from any other person, he wouldn't. Delmud, however, is different. If Delmud is the one to say it, if Delmud is the one to speak such high praise of him, then it must be true, right?

“You flatter me,” he mumbles, anyway, because he isn't used to such praise - by all accounts, he feels that he is rather average, and Faval’s mastery of Yewfelle has only cemented this feeling. For a moment, the two of them continue in comfortable silence, before Lester speaks up again.

“There was one other thing I wanted to ask you before we left, though.”

Delmud turns to him, cheerfully bemused. “Oh? And what is that?”

Lester turns to face him, taking Delmud’s hands in his. “Tell me how you do it,” he says, leaning close; his eyes are wide and hungry and he wants, he _wants_ … “How do you always know what to say all the time? How do you manage to inspire everyone with only a few, quiet words? What do you do, what do you _say_ \- what is it about you that makes everyone so ready to love you?”

For a brief moment, Delmud looks almost taken aback - and then he laughs, a smile spreading across his face. “Do you _really_ think I say all the right things, all the time?”

“Of _course_ you do,” Lester replies, almost reverently; Delmud falls momentarily speechless, blinking and gaping like a fish. Slowly, shakily, that smile returns.

“I, well. I’m certainly honored to know you think so! But, no, really, I _promise_ you - there's certainly times where I fail, and say the wrong thing, or where I - I'm not _perfect_ , Lester.”

“Could have fooled me,” Lester says with a laugh that sounds hollow, even to his own ears. His thumbs trace idly over the backs of Delmud’s hands before he catches himself and yanks them back, folding them behind his back. Delmud frowns, and Lester does his best not to look him in the eye as he continues. “There are many - there are certainly people here, who adore you, and would do anything for you.”

Including himself. He doesn't say that, though. Delmud doesn't need to know _that_.

Delmud is silent for a very long moment. Eventually, though, he reaches behind Lester and takes the archer’s hands in his, holding them close. “Lester,” he says, quite seriously, his blue eyes boring holes into Lester's head even as he refuses to look back, “Lester, I can promise you, I am far from a perfect man. But, if you really want to know what I do…”

His face and voice soften, and he shoots Lester the tiniest of smiles. “I just try my best to be kind,” he says, “and honest. I _listen_ to people, and I keep my word, so that they know they can trust me. I don’t allow myself to be taken advantage of - I have my boundaries, and I keep to them - but I still allow myself to be flexible, and do as much as I can.”

He draws Lester’s hands closer, up to his chest, and Lester finally glances up to stare right back into his eyes. “And, maybe I do just have a gift for saying the right things. But I think just saying the right things aren’t enough - you have to _do_ the right things, too. And, in that way - I think you’ll already be successful enough. Whether or not I’m by your side.”

He laughs to himself, eyes closing - and something in Lester _aches_ , and so the words spill out anyways. “But I want you by my side, Delmud.”

Delmud’s eyes fly back open, and he grins broadly at Lester. “But I will be by your side! I’ve already told you I’ll come to Verdane with you.”

“More than that,” says Lester, shaking his head. “I want. I want you to. I want.”

Whatever brief courage he’d had before leaves him, and he breaks eye contact with Delmud to look down at the floor, shoulders shaking. His fingers wriggle free enough to interlace with Delmud’s, holding tight, and he doesn’t trust himself to speak.

And finally, in that moment, it gets through Delmud’s very, very thick head. “Oh,” he breathes. His fingers do not leave Lester’s; they interlace tighter. “Oh, I see.”

* * *

The reclamation and restoration of Verdane cannot wait - but it will still take days to prepare, and days to ride. And for now, if Lester wants to be swept up in Delmud’s strong arms, a bright moon reflecting the light of that warm and golden sun-

Well. There’s time for that.


End file.
